Kairn & Sethan
Vanilla Malt Custard #11. if I didn't know better, I'd think we were dangerous and Pomegranate #18. Homicide
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : Book 7 after Sethan summons Cheva
Word Count : 364
So, I'm jumping around some more and doing fairly plotty stuff completely out of context, but what else is new? This is fairly late in the story, when the gods start coming into play. Also, as I'm rewriting things, everyone has become so gray I don't really feel right being so generous with the hot fudge.
A while back I decided on a whim to give Kairn a nod in the prophecy So of course I have to make use of it.
“Well?” said Sethan.
Kairn was well aware of the expectant look Sethan had been giving him ever since the construct turned goddess had apparently run itself out of energy and fallen unceremoniously asleep on the temple floor.
“Well, what?” he snapped, exhausted, on edge, and more than a little tired of Sethan’s games. He wondered if the temple might be convinced to drop him off close enough to catch up with Sham and Mara.
His irritation was showing no obvious effects on his companion. “I’m hoping you plan on living up to your name,” he said in the same suggestive tone. He made a stabbing motion with one hand at the slumbering body across the room.
“My what?” said Kairn, genuinely perplexed for a moment. He choked as Sethan’s meaning dawned on him. “Sh-she’s- that- that’s a god, Sethan!” he squeaked, jumping up from his seat next to Sethan at the central altar’s base.
Sethan shrugged. “And you’re the Godslayer, aren’t you?”
“Says Roul.” He was pacing now, gesturing nervously, trying his best to look anywhere but at Sethan. “But no one really listens to Roul. Not even Berwyk ever believed I was anything special, so I don’t see…” It was no use. However much he rambled on, he couldn’t shake Sethan’s stare. He turned to face him. “You’re serious, aren’t you? That’s your big plan? Give her a body and make her my problem?”
“That’s oversimplifying it just a bit, don’t you think?”
“Of course. I’m sure you’ve got everything prepared. So where’s the board I can hit her over the head with?” Sethan just glowered at him, so he snatched up his cloak from the pedestal beside him. “Knife? Sword?” he asked, shrugging it on. “How does one kill a god, anyway?” It was a rhetorical question as far as he was concerned; he was headed for the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sethan sounded concerned. Somehow that made leaving all the more satisfying.
“I’m going after the last problem you dumped in my lap,” he said, fastening his cloak. “Your son. That...thing,” he added, waving at the sleeping god as he passed, “you can take care of yourself.”
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : Book 7 after Sethan summons Cheva
Word Count : 364
So, I'm jumping around some more and doing fairly plotty stuff completely out of context, but what else is new? This is fairly late in the story, when the gods start coming into play. Also, as I'm rewriting things, everyone has become so gray I don't really feel right being so generous with the hot fudge.
A while back I decided on a whim to give Kairn a nod in the prophecy So of course I have to make use of it.
“Well?” said Sethan.
Kairn was well aware of the expectant look Sethan had been giving him ever since the construct turned goddess had apparently run itself out of energy and fallen unceremoniously asleep on the temple floor.
“Well, what?” he snapped, exhausted, on edge, and more than a little tired of Sethan’s games. He wondered if the temple might be convinced to drop him off close enough to catch up with Sham and Mara.
His irritation was showing no obvious effects on his companion. “I’m hoping you plan on living up to your name,” he said in the same suggestive tone. He made a stabbing motion with one hand at the slumbering body across the room.
“My what?” said Kairn, genuinely perplexed for a moment. He choked as Sethan’s meaning dawned on him. “Sh-she’s- that- that’s a god, Sethan!” he squeaked, jumping up from his seat next to Sethan at the central altar’s base.
Sethan shrugged. “And you’re the Godslayer, aren’t you?”
“Says Roul.” He was pacing now, gesturing nervously, trying his best to look anywhere but at Sethan. “But no one really listens to Roul. Not even Berwyk ever believed I was anything special, so I don’t see…” It was no use. However much he rambled on, he couldn’t shake Sethan’s stare. He turned to face him. “You’re serious, aren’t you? That’s your big plan? Give her a body and make her my problem?”
“That’s oversimplifying it just a bit, don’t you think?”
“Of course. I’m sure you’ve got everything prepared. So where’s the board I can hit her over the head with?” Sethan just glowered at him, so he snatched up his cloak from the pedestal beside him. “Knife? Sword?” he asked, shrugging it on. “How does one kill a god, anyway?” It was a rhetorical question as far as he was concerned; he was headed for the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sethan sounded concerned. Somehow that made leaving all the more satisfying.
“I’m going after the last problem you dumped in my lap,” he said, fastening his cloak. “Your son. That...thing,” he added, waving at the sleeping god as he passed, “you can take care of yourself.”